True Meaning
by otherhawk
Summary: Adjusting to life after marriage can be tricky. Some things have to change, right? The More Things Change verse Christmas story!


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Ocean's 11. Or Christmas.**

**A/N: First Christmas fic! There will be others. Soon as they're written...  
**

**A/N2: InSilva has a Harry Potter story that's been nominated for an award. It's called 'Catching Up', written under the name of InFabula and it's truly excellent. It can be found on this site and you can vote for it on **http:/deathlyhallowsawards dot blogspot dot com **Only with the 'dots' replaced with...well, dots. Please, read and vote. **

* * *

December 4th

* * *

The street was bustling with early Christmas shoppers, the lights were twinkling cheerfully above him, a light sprinkling of snow was starting to fall and somewhere a brass band was playing Silent Night.

A perfect December day.

Rusty figured that the _very next person _who wished him a happy Christmas, or season's greetings, or a fucking joyous Saturnalia – the next person who said _any _of that shit, he was taking their wallet, their car keys, their watch, their shopping and possibly their underwear.

He sighed and ducked into a bakery quickly, just before he walked into the charity-collecting Santa Claus with the cotton-wool beard.

A moment to sit down and he absently checked that his own Christmas shopping was safe before he went up to the counter and acquired himself a mug of hot chocolate with extra everything and a slice of stollen that he'd swear was thicker than the cake it was cut from.

Okay. Time to settle down and find some good cheer, or alternatively work out whether he was in danger of morphing into Ebeneezer Scrooge or the Grinch.

Stealing Christmas...he wondered what the resale value was.

He scooped a spoonful of whipped cream and chocolate marshmallows off his hot chocolate and ate it moodily.

Wasn't that there was anything wrong with Christmas. Food, presents and good movies on TV. What wasn't to love? Christmas had always been just fine with him. Well, every year since he was fourteen, Christmas had been just fine with him.

Jimmy Stewart and popcorn and ice cream for breakfast.

That was the tradition. Him and Danny, and sometimes, oftentimes, Saul as well, complaining that the movie hadn't changed any since last year.

Only not this year. Not this year and not ever again.

Danny and Tess had been married three months and still Rusty sometimes caught Danny wearing that smile. _The _smile. The one that had been shining all the way through his wedding day. The one that no photographs ever truly captured.

And the way Tess looked at Danny...everything that Rusty could want for Danny, really. She saw the magic and the wonder and the extraordinary, she saw all that and she understood and she loved him. And maybe she didn't know about the danger and maybe she wouldn't get the excitement and certainly she wouldn't approve of the illegal...but she loved him and they were happy.

And Rusty was happy for Danny. For both of them, if it came to that. These past three months he'd fought down every lingering snarl of resentment, every whisper of old insecurity. Just because Danny loved Tess didn't mean he loved Rusty any less. He wasn't a child anymore. He was all grown-up and he knew damned well that he wasn't some worthless, damaged toy that would be gently discarded and forgotten one day.

But Danny and Tess...he had a good idea how this worked. Admittedly it was a picture that was more formed from movies and TV specials than actual experience, but nevertheless he knew that Christmas was a time for families and he wasn't going to intrude and he wasn't going to let it get awkward even for a second.

He sighed and ate his cake mournfully.

Right. Nothing awkward. That'd be a good Christmas miracle.

Next year it'd be easier. Next year and there'd be precedent and expectations and traditions that he had no part of. Was just this year that he had to get through. Preferably without moping and without indulging in selfish self-pity.

Wasn't being selfish to admit that Jimmy Stewart, popcorn and ice cream for breakfast wasn't going to be anywhere _near _as much fun on his own.

* * *

December 8th

* * *

Tess already knew that this was going to be the best Christmas she'd ever had.

She sighed happily to herself, curled barefoot on the sofa, her head on Danny's shoulder, his arm around her. This was true bliss.

"I can't wait for Christmas," she said confidently, as the family on TV went about all their last minute decorations. "It's so wonderful to think of a proper, family Christmas, isn't it? When I was young Christmas could never come soon enough."

She could feel Danny gazing down at her. "What was it like?"

"It was wonderful," she said and the smile rose up right alongside the memory. "The house was always full of people. My Uncle Charlie – Dad's brother – he'd be there and Aunt Laura and my cousins. Uncle Charlie always brought the best presents. One year he brought me this toy carousel. It lit up and played music...I think I still have it somewhere. And Christmas dinner...it was all crackers and people smiling and Dad laughing at his own stupid jokes, all the wonderful food. Mom was baking for about three weeks before." She sighed wistfully. "It was wonderful."

"I never really..." Danny hesitated. "Mom always preferred a quiet house at Christmas."

She reached up and kissed him gently and she knew that his childhood hadn't been a happy one. He rarely talked about it, but she'd heard the pain in his voice. Loud arguments and harsh, cruel words and being overlooked and dismissed. Tess had never met Danny's mother and probably never would, but she had a few things she wished she could say to the woman.

"I only really started looking forward to Christmas later," Danny went on, and he was smiling now. "The first Christmas after me and Rus' left home...it had been a long year. Felt so good to have something to look forward to. I bought Rusty a chocolate advent calendar. 'Course, he'd finished all the chocolates by the second." Tess smiled slightly, revelling in the fondness in Danny's voice. Some things never changed. She liked hearing stories from when Danny was young. His parents were rarely mentioned, it was always Danny and Rusty.

"We got a tree too," Danny said, remembering. "Probably the scrawniest looking Christmas tree you've ever seen. Didn't matter though. Rus' had never had a Christmas tree before and I'd never had a real one. We made decorations out of strings of popcorn and little paper snowflakes. Rusty found a broken set of lights from somewhere and stayed up half the night until he got them to work."

She gripped his hand tightly and she _knew _that he'd been happier then than he ever had been with his mother and all the material riches she cared to supply. Just that she also knew he'd only been eighteen – barely eighteen – and it wasn't _fair_ that he hadn't had both.

He caught her looking. Naturally. And the smile was understanding and loving and wondering all at once. "Money was tight that year, Tess. By the next year things were easier." He grinned. "Not that made a whole lot of difference to what we did. It's always been popcorn and Jimmy Stewart and ice cream for breakfast."

Tess wrinkled her nose. "Ice cream for breakfast."

"Yeah," Danny smiled. "And egg nog. Lots of egg nog."

Oh, that sounded decidedly unhealthy. She smiled. It was Christmas after all. The time of year when nothing unhealthy counted. She'd have to remember to lay in a supply of egg nog. And some ice cream.

"It's going to be wonderful to have a proper family Christmas," she said again, snuggling in closer beside Danny, treasuring this wonderful moment. Even after all this time she still found it difficult to believe they were married. Every day she found herself looking at him, hardly believing that he loved her. That she was going to spend the rest of her life with this amazing, magical man. "I've missed that so much since Mom and Dad died. I mean the last few years I've been with Jillian and her family, but before that..." She shivered slightly, remembering a time when she'd felt so alone. "I'm so glad I'm with you now."

"Yeah." Danny kissed the top of her head. "Me too."

* * *

December 12th

* * *

Thankfully, at two in the morning, the tinny version of 'Little Saint Nick' that had been driving Danny out of his mind all afternoon was silent. All they had to worry about was the three fake Christmas trees, the leering plastic snowman that appeared to be gripping itself in an intimate area, and the avalanche of artificial snow. And the silent alarm, the locks on the display cases and the night guard, of course. But they were less immediately worrying. Seemed that here was one jewellers that really wanted their customers to remember it was Christmas.

Danny had no problem remembering that.

He just didn't really want to think about it right now.

Christmas was supposed to be something to look forward to. His first Christmas with Tess and it was going to be uncomplicatedly wonderful. If he kept telling himself that then he might wind up believing it enough to move past the hollow feeling inside his chest.

He carefully unpinned the gaudy purple tinsel from the counter, giving him better access to the displays.

"I might take that while we're at it," Rusty commented cheerfully. "I could do with some decorations around the place."

Danny smiled but carefully didn't look at him. (_It had been their place last year. Their place and their decorations._) "You going to take the snowman too?"

"Nah," Rusty shook his head firmly. "Keeps looking at me. I'd be worried about waking up one morning to find it perched on the end of my bed staring down at me with those gleaming eyes..."

Danny shuddered slightly. That was _not _a pleasant mental picture. "You know if we leave him here he's just going to follow you home," he warned darkly.

Rusty looked at him. "He's going to follow me home or you're going to break into my house in the middle of the night and put him in my bed?"

Damnit. He wished he'd thought of that first.

"Okay," Rusty said briskly. "You wanna get – "

" – sure," he agreed, going over to check out the other case.

_Huh. _

He found himself staring down at the rightmost necklace on the upper tier of the display. A delicate little twist of gold and green. Elegant. Understated. Exactly what he should have been looking for the past few weeks.

"Oh!"

He wasn't even aware he'd spoken out loud until Rusty frowned over at him. "What's up?"

"Think I just found Tess' Christmas present," he announced.

Rusty paused. "You're not going to – "

" – well, I'm not going to steal it," Danny agreed, rolling his eyes.

A sigh. "You can't steal everything else in the shop and then come back and buy your wife's present the next day. That's – "

" – tacky," Danny nodded. "Very tacky."

"Also a little suspicious," Rusty told him, coming up to look over his shoulder. "Oh, you're right. She'll love this."

"Uh huh." Danny sighed. "Tell me something I don't know."

They'd been planning this job for the last couple of weeks. The external alarm code had more or less fallen into their laps in the form of the drunken manager trying to get Rusty to write his number in her filofax. The code had been right there on the front page and the manager had been right there in Rusty's lap and Rusty had managed to read the one while escaping from the other.

"'s no big thing," Rusty said, shrugging. "There are other jewellers out there. We put everything back the way it was. You swing by first thing and pick up the necklace. Tess has a happy Christmas. We're all set."

Danny met his eyes and the thanks was unspoken and sincere.

Rusty grinned. "Just make sure _my _Christmas present is something special."

He was helpless to stop the pain from showing in his eyes. Rusty's Christmas present. And he wasn't going to be spending Christmas with Rusty. For the first time since he was seventeen, he wasn't going to be spending Christmas with Rusty and that _hurt_ and more than anything he wanted to apologise.

"Oh, Danny," Rusty sighed. "'s okay. Really, it's okay. Things change and people wind up in different places."

Danny froze. Because that sounded far too close to what Rusty used to tell him when they were kids. "You used to say that we'd grow apart..."

"Yeah." Rusty nodded. "I did. And was I right?"

"No," Danny snorted. "You were an idiot."

"Exactly," Rusty grinned reassuringly. "Things change. Doesn't mean _we _do."

Danny smiled at him for a long, happy moment, and he had a feeling that Rusty probably had a bunch of adjectives to describe the look on his face. "You know, that was dangerously close to sentimental."

"It's Christmas," Rusty told him. "I'm allowed."

Good to know. He leaned back against the counter and sighed. "I don't like things changing."

"Yes you do," Rusty told him. Then he stopped and stared. "You want to take a look where your hand is?"

Danny glanced down.

Oh.

He was leaning on the central display. The central display with all the most expensive jewels. The central display with the silent alarm that they hadn't killed yet.

_Fuck. _

He looked back up and met Rusty's eyes. "Forget putting everything back – "

" – and run," Rusty agreed.

They were as good as their word.

* * *

December 13th

* * *

What he needed was a job. Something complicated and involving and most of all, something far away. Another country. Something that took him out of the Christmas equation altogether. If last night had proved anything – other than the fact that indulging in the sentimental in the middle of a job was a quick way to lose focus – it was that this was awkward and painful for Danny too. Not that that exactly came as a surprise...

Be easier if he was elsewhere. Elsewhere and with an unassailable excuse. That way neither of them would be thinking about what they were missing.

It did occur to him to go see Saul. The last he'd heard Saul was in Vegas right now, having declared everywhere north of New Mexico too cold after October, and he knew that Saul would be delighted to see him. Only problem with _that _was that all of them – him, Saul and Danny - would know exactly why he was there and exactly where he'd normally be, and in its own way, that was every bit as awkward as just staying in New York.

Next year. Next year he could spend the season with Saul or whoever else. This year he had to make other plans.

Oh, he had no intention of spending a miserable Christmas alone. Wasn't going to be like when he was a kid. He'd find a job – someone, somewhere, must have something that needed done urgently – and if that worked out maybe he'd see about finding someone else alone at Christmas and maybe they'd find out whether it was possible to spend the whole holiday in bed. Right through New Years, perhaps, if the job permitted.

He'd enjoy himself and when the whole damned holiday was done he'd head home and share the stories with Danny and maybe, _maybe _they could convince themselves that they hadn't missed each other one bit.

Time to make some phone calls. Someone, somewhere, must want _something _stolen.

* * *

December 18th

* * *

This was harder than Tess had been expecting, and she gazed grimly around the kitchen. Mess everywhere and the smell emanating from the oven wasn't quite right. Wasn't the smell she remembered from when she was a child.

She sighed. She really wanted to get this right. It was the little things she wanted to share with Danny. The little things that made Christmas for her, because the bigger things, the things that really mattered, they already had and they could take for granted. She wanted to give Danny the perfect Christmas he deserved.

There was a knock at the door and, flustered, she abandoned her baking and ran to answer it.

Rusty was standing there, smiling, bag in his hand. "Happy Christmas, Tess."

"Not quite yet," she pointed out, laughing and stepping aside to let him in. "Danny's not here right now."

"Yeah, I know," Rusty agreed following her inside. He frowned suddenly. "What's that smell?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh!"

Burnt gingerbread men. She pulled the baking tray out of the oven and poked at them mournfully with a skewer. Oh, these were completely unsalvageable.

"Think they're dead already," Rusty told her, standing in the doorway watching. "No need to stab them."

"Thank you, Rusty, you're very helpful," she said, deadpan, before sighing. "It always looked so easy when my mother did it."

He looked at the sorry mess of burnt dough, his lips pursed. "Not your first try?"

"Third," she admitted. "The first time they were too wet and they just fell apart, so I thought that they needed longer in the oven but the second time I forgot the ginger so I had to start again."

"Too long in the oven," Rusty commented. "And too much flour."

She turned and stared. "You know how to make gingerbread men?" she asked with hopeful surprise.

"Uh huh," Rusty admitted with a smile.

"Will you show me? Please?" she pleaded.

"Of course," he agreed without a hesitation. "You got more ingredients?"

She nodded towards the counter. "I think I bought out the store."

"So why do you want to make gingerbread men anyway?" he asked her casually, as he mixed the treacle, sugar, syrup and spice together in a pan.

"My mother always made them at Christmas when I was a child," she explained, after a long pause. Christmas and childhood...all the things that Danny had missed out on wrapped up in a ginger cookie. "I wanted...I wanted to keep some kind of tradition going. Something to share with Danny that I cared about." She looked at him anxiously. "Do you think Danny will like them? Do you think he'll understand?"

"Oh, yes," Rusty said with a soft, familiar smile. "He will."

They carried on making the gingerbread men in silence for a while. She was glad that Rusty understood. Glad that he approved. Danny had never deliberately so much as _hinted _to her, but she knew that Rusty's childhood had been difficult too. She didn't imagine that he'd had many happy Christmases when he was young either.

"When did you learn to make these?" Tess wondered as Rusty rolled out the dough.

"Mabel showed me," he told her, and the smile was different now. "There was a bake sale for the track team. I was trying to impress a boy."

She laughed. "Did it work?"

"Nah," he said cheerfully. "Don't think he even noticed. Mind you I was...ill on the day of the bake sale. I had to get Danny to take them in to school for me. And Danny_ really_ didn't know what was going on."

Tess could almost giggle at the mental image. Danny delivering baked goods and hiding his bafflement. "That couldn't have helped."

"It may have been the least successful attempt at flirting through confectionary ever," Rusty assured her gravely. "Even the...unorthodox...frosting features didn't help."

She raised a disapproving eyebrow. "I want non-lewd gingerbread men, please, Rusty."

"Of course," he grinned.

"I don't imagine Mabel taught you that," she added with a sudden streak of mischief.

"Definitely not," he said, shuddering slightly at the thought.

An hour later and they had sheets of gingerbread men laid out and ready to decorate, and they were carefully splitting the last one. Just to make sure that it tasted okay.

"Mmmm," Tess said happily, and Rusty's eyes were closed and he was licking the last of the crumbs off his fingers. "Oh, you need to come round and bake more often."

He smiled. "Next month we can do cookies. Peanut butter chocolate chip. Danny loves them."

"It's a date," she said, still smiling, and she turned back and regarded the ginger bread men with glee. "Oh, we're going to have a wonderful Christmas."

"Good," Rusty said, and there was something strange in his tone, but when she turned round quickly he smiled at her and there wasn't a trace of anything wrong in his face. He looked at his watch. "I should get going. I'll see you later, Tess."

"Of course," she said.

It wasn't until after he'd left that she realised that she'd never got round to asking why he'd come by. But when she found the new presents under the tree, she thought she knew.

She smiled happily to herself. It really was going to be the most amazing Christmas.

* * *

December 23rd

* * *

Twas the night before the night before Christmas and Tess was exclaiming over each newly opened Christmas card and Danny was sharing in her delight and wasn't at all wishing that the damned holiday was just _over. _Not even a little bit.

(_Back when he was young and Christmas dragged on for _months _as Mom and Dad commanded everything that was right and proper and notDanny and he was just waiting for the day when he could see Rusty again. Waiting until he knew that Rusty was alright.)_

Not that he wasn't having fun. He _was _and that was half the problem. Spending Christmas with Tess was just as wonderful as he could have imagined. Making mulled wine yesterday, showing Tess the Christmas tree decorations he'd known she'd love, listening to her indignant denials when he'd caught her shaking a present...even Tess' office party with 'Father' Christmas showing truly startling amount of cleavage - even _that _had been wonderful. When he was with Tess, almost nothing else seemed to matter. Almost nothing until he thought about Rusty being alone.

It would be easier if he could resent Tess. Easier if he could blame her for all this. But she just wanted to enjoy Christmas and he felt guilty every time he thought of Rusty and he felt guilty every time he _didn't _think of Rusty.

Rusty had called him two days ago. From the airport. Telling him that Larry Tyne needed help, promising him that it wouldn't take long, that he could handle it alone, that he'd be careful. They'd both carefully pretended it was all about Larry and Danny had known that Rusty was trying to make it easy for both of them and God, that hurt.

"Oh, Jillian's going to Paris in the new year!" Tess exclaimed wistfully, reading a Christmas card that seemed to have an impossible amount of writing inside. Danny couldn't help but think that she would have been better served by a bigger card. "It must be so beautiful."

"You've never been to Paris?" he asked, genuinely taken-aback and he was already making plans, thinking about Valentine's day surprises and places that Tess would love.

"No, never," she agreed. "I really want to see the Louvre someday though."

That would be arranged. Though he'd need to be careful. Every time he saw the Mona Lisa his fingers started to itch. He didn't even really want to steal it, he just wanted to be the man who _had _stolen it. "It's beautiful," he said sincerely. "The whole city is."

"When were you there?" she asked.

"I've been a few times," he said truthfully. "The first time was when I was twenty. Me and Rusty went on a three month trip. Paris was the first place we stopped in. It was Rusty's first time out of the country. My first time without Mom...without Mom. I swear, we were trying to see everything at once. We got chatting to this guy Marcel who ran a water taxi and he took us to see everything else. We wound up in this old, basement bar, talking to an old man who said he was there the night Picasso was brought in for questioning for the Mona Lisa theft." He always thought of that when he thought of the Louvre.

"Really?" She looked fascinated. "Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"Oh, yes," Danny nodded. "He had a photograph." Getting arrested wasn't something _he'd _want commemorated but then he wasn't an art genius. "Do you want a glass of wine?" he offered, stretching as he stood up.

"Please," she nodded.

When he came back and laid a glass down by her elbow there was a Christmas market on the news. In Cologne, the caption told him. "Oh, that's where Rusty is," he commented, struggling to keep the yearning out of his voice.

There was a long silence.

"Rusty's in Germany?" Tess asked quietly. "But he's going to be back in time for Christmas, right?"

"I doubt it," he said easily and he _still _wasn't thinking about Rusty being alone in his apartment at Christmas. He had to admit that Rusty might have had the right idea in getting out of town.

An even longer silence. "Is it...is it because of me?" Tess asked in a small voice.

He turned round quickly, frowning, not understanding in the slightest. "What?"

Tess seemed to take that as confirmation and her face was wreathed in misery. "It is, isn't it? Oh, Danny, I really tried, I promise. I didn't want this to be awkward. I wanted him to like me...I thought he _did _like me."

"He does like you!" Danny protested, mind whirling.

"Then why..." She broke off and studied him for a long moment. "Danny?" she asked, very, very calmly. "You did invite Rusty for Christmas, didn't you?"

He stared at her, his mouth dry. "You...you said you wanted a family Christmas."

"Rusty is your family," she pointed out, a decided edge to her voice. "Do you think I don't know that? Did you really think I don't understand. You really thought I'd want you to shut him out?"

"Tess – " he tried.

" – _I am not your mother, Danny." _

There was a long silence.

She was nothing like his mother. She was about as far from his mother as it was possible to get.

"It's not exactly normal, Tess," he pointed out at last, helplessly. He'd thought the normal Christmas, the perfect Christmas was what she wanted. And even after all this time he expected Rusty to be excluded from that.

She gave a short, undignified laugh. "Danny Ocean, there is nothing normal about you. And _I love you_."

He took her in his arms in a heartbeat, holding her close, trying to apologise for not trusting her, for not understanding her understanding.

"Christmas is for family, Danny," she said, and the hurt was still there in her voice. "And Rusty...he's your brother. There is nothing abnormal about wanting to be with the people you care...the people you _love _at Christmas." She hesitated. "It was abnormal to want to keep you apart," she said, and she wasn't speaking hypothetically and she wasn't speaking about herself. "I thought..."

"I'm sorry," he said softly at last. "I should have known better."

She looked up at him. "Fix this. Please."

He could see the Christmas Tess really wanted now.

And he wanted it too.

* * *

December 24th

* * *

Rusty walked wearily into the hotel room and dropped the briefcase of money on the bed before he struggled out of his jacket.

Bathfoodbed. Or, possibly, foodbedbath. He wasn't so clear on the order. Wasn't so certain that it mattered. He'd spent most of the last forty eight hours outside in the snow and the fog, and most of the last _twelve _hours running around a disused sewer system, feeling like Harry Lime.

Cold, damp and miserable, exhausted, bruised and lonely. On closer examination, he'd been wrong. This was shaping up to be _exactly _like Christmas when he'd been a kid.

Okay. That was enough. Time to quit feeling sorry for himself. Really, life was pretty good. He'd stolen the papers, got away clear, Larry Tyne owed them (_him?_) a favour, he was fifteen thousand marks the richer – everything had gone smoothly. More or less. He sighed, ordered some food from room service and started running a bath. The original plan might have involved finding someone attractive and staying in bed for a few days, but right now bed was looking pretty attractive in its own right.

His phone rang. Larry again. Wanting to know again exactly where he'd found the papers and exactly what Konrad Reiner had said. Rusty went through it all with as much good grace as he could muster. Took twenty minutes and by that time the maid had appeared with his food and the bath was in imminent danger of overflowing and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open.

Okay. New plan. Sleepfoodbathwhisky. All at once.

Immersed in hot water and bubbles, his glass perched precariously on the rim of the bath, eating a bowl of chocolate pudding with vanilla sauce...oh, _this _right here. This could be a whole new Christmas tradition. Maybe he could stay in the bath until New Year. This was a good hotel...he was pretty certain their heating system could take it.

Food finished he sank a little lower into the hot water, wincing slightly as the grazes on his arms and back stung. What came of trying to squeeze through a passageway that wasn't, strictly speaking, designed for people. And see? Once upon a time he'd have spent Christmas hurting because he'd managed to attract Dad's attention. Now it was because some town planner somewhere had failed to understand how to draw to scale. This was better.

He must have dozed off at some point because he woke up to the knowledge that the water was getting cold and his pants were ringing.

Priorities. He knocked the hot tap on with his foot before he reached over the side of the bath and dug through his pockets for his phone.

Danny.

He was smiling before he answered. Couldn't be Christmas day _already, _especially not with the time difference. Didn't matter. Even more than the bath, food bed principle, Danny's voice would make him feel better. (_Not anywhere near as better as Danny's presence would make him feel._ _But he wasn't going to think about that._)

"You calling to tell me that nothing is stirring, not even a mouse?" he asked cheerily as he answered.

"It's six in the morning," Danny told him. "Bit early to be looking out for Saint Nick." He sighed. "I've been trying to reach you all night."

Rusty frowned. He could hear the worry in Danny's voice, even though Danny was trying his best to hide it.

"What's wrong?" he asked fearfully, a hundred different possibilities fighting through his head, and he sat up hastily.

"'s okay," Danny assured him quickly. He paused. "Did I just hear splashing? Are you in the bath right now?"

"Yes, yes," he admitted hastily. "What happened?"

"We're both idiots," Danny announced levelly.

"What?" he blinked.

"Tess wants you home for Christmas," Danny said softly.

There was a long silence and Rusty considered that carefully, not letting the hope and joy overwhelm him. "Are you sure?" he asked, and he really meant 'Is _she _sure?'

He could _feel _the way Danny was looking. "She says Christmas is a time for families."

"Oh," he said blankly.

"Yeah," Danny agreed quietly.

"_Oh," _he said again.

"Exactly," Danny nodded.

Tess was right. They were idiots.

"She assumed you were coming over," Danny added.

"I assumed – " he began, feeling just a little ridiculous. He'd assumed that Tess would want him far away. He'd assumed that Tess wouldn't even give him a second thought, that Christmas should be all about her and Danny and that he didn't belong anywhere near the picture of the ideal family.

" – me too," Danny said quickly. "We were wrong."

Rusty could hear the smile in Danny's voice. The smile and the pride and the wonder and the absolute _joy. _

He grinned. "Feeling – "

" – more than a little," Danny assured him.

He smiled again and he'd rarely been quite so happy that Danny had found Tess. He stood up and reached for a towel. "_Tess _wants me home for Christmas, huh?" he said lightly.

"Well, personally, I can take you or leave you," Danny explained gravely, over the sound of a door opening, and he could hear Tess' voice in the background.

A second later and she was talking in his ear. "Rusty? Do you think you'll manage to get back in time for Christmas?" Her voice was anxious and sincere. She really _did _want him there. Wanted Danny happy.

Smiling, he reassured her. "I'll be there if I have to fly the plane myself," he said, and he didn't believe how much better he was feeling than he had been a mere hour ago.

Suddenly Christmas was sounding like a fantastic idea.

* * *

December 24th...in another time zone.

* * *

JFK airport on Christmas Eve was probably the loudest, most uncomfortable place Tess had ever been. There was a lot of anxious, miserable people around.

Normally it wouldn't even occur to her to suggest to Danny that they go meet Rusty at the airport. After all Rusty flew all the time, not to mention, as Danny had pointed out, Rusty's own car would be in the airport parking lot already. Tess had just wanted to make the gesture. Wanted to make it absolutely and indisputably clear to the pair of them that she understood what was important.

She held Danny's hand tightly. She'd already forgiven him, of course. There were times when she suspected that she really would forgive him for absolutely anything. But the moment Rusty had called to tell Danny that he'd managed to get on a last-minute flight and he'd be back that evening, all the hurt and anger had largely faded to be replaced by frustration.

She'd never dreamed that Danny had thought she wouldn't want Rusty around for Christmas.

Long before she'd married him, she'd understood that she would never be Danny's only love. In some ways, she would always be sharing him with Rusty. And that had been something she'd had to think long and hard about but in the end there could be no question that Danny was worth it.

And, after all, Rusty had been in Danny's life longer than she had. If it came down to it, if there was an interloper here, it wasn't him. They'd lived together for thirteen years; she knew plenty of _marriages _that hadn't lasted that long. She knew how they felt about each other and she didn't think that she could come between that even if she wanted to. Which she really, truly, didn't.

She accepted that Rusty would always be there and she was _glad _that he was. Danny was so much more..._everything_...when Rusty was around. Those few times when Rusty had been out of town for more than a week, she'd seen the change in him, and she'd gently teased him for worrying that Rusty could get into trouble on a business trip. Really, she should have _known _that something was wrong. She should have seen those same signs and said something sooner. But she'd been so caught up in trying to create the perfect Christmas for Danny that she'd missed the fact that Danny hadn't been brought up to make any assumptions about what was important.

Christmas was a time for family. And she'd accepted that Rusty would always be a part of that and she didn't resent him in the slightest. She _liked _him, after all. Not just for himself, though she did. She liked him for Danny. Liked him for the person Danny was. Once, a long time ago, Danny had remarked – casually, if such a thing were possible – that he didn't know how he'd have survived his childhood without Rusty. Somehow, Tess believed him. Oh, not literally, obviously, but she'd seen the way Rusty looked at Danny in odd moments. Comfort and affection and reassurance. All the things it seemed like Danny had never got from his 'family' and Tess found it hard to think about the person Danny might have been if he didn't have Rusty.

Speaking of which...

Rusty came walking out of the Arrivals lounge, and his face lit up as he spotted them. Instinctively, immediately, Tess looked round at Danny. Seeing the smile on his face, the deep and abiding joy.

Exactly what she wanted to see.

* * *

December 25th

* * *

Tess had vanished upstairs to take a phonecall, leaving him and Rusty sitting on the sofa, drinking egg nog, eating gingerbread men, waiting for Jimmy Stewart to come on.

"These taste familiar," he commented, as he nibbled at a ginger arm.

Rusty just smiled.

Danny sighed. "Third time she's made them this week," he commented.

"Don't worry," Rusty assured him. "We're doing peanut butter cookies next month."

Something to look forward to. He glanced over at Rusty, feeling so glad that he was here, that they were together.

Rusty caught him looking and smiled, tipping a glass towards him. "Happy Christmas, Danny."

"Happy Christmas, Rus'," Danny said, ridiculously happy that no matter what changed, there were always some things that didn't.

Tess came back downstairs, smiling, and she kissed him lightly as she walked by and sat down in the armchair, just in time for the movie to come on.

Egg nog and gingerbread men and Jimmy Stewart. Tess and Rusty, happy and with him. His family.

Everything that Christmas was all about. This year, next year, always.

* * *

**A/N: Happy holidays! Please review and don't forget to vote for InSilva's story at the Deathly Hallows Awards. **


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